


carry me through

by helloearthlings



Category: King Falls AM (Podcast)
Genre: Future Fic, Happy Ending, Kid Fic, M/M, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-29
Updated: 2018-07-29
Packaged: 2019-06-18 09:49:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,344
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15483069
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/helloearthlings/pseuds/helloearthlings
Summary: Jack looks up at Sammy with a soft smile, Elise’s cries going softer the longer Jack rocks her. The longer her dad rocks her.Sammy reaches a hand out, clumsy but he feels perpetually clumsy when it comes to Elise, and he brushes her feather-light hair back. She doesn’t cry out or wake up, instead making a contented little noise. It makes Sammy’s chest hurt.





	carry me through

**Author's Note:**

> Listen. This is what my boy Sammy Stevens deserves. That's all I have to say about this fic, honestly. I just want him to be happy.

Sammy has a general awareness of the soft cries coming from the baby monitor, and knows that he’s going to get up soon, but his limbs move slowly and his brain usually takes a minute to catch up to reality, so he hasn’t moved from his pillow yet.

 He feels slightly warmer, and when he finally forces his eyes open, realizes that there’s another blanket on top of him.

He also realizes that Jack’s place in the bed is empty, and there’s no longer any crying coming from the baby monitor.

That wakes Sammy up, his head clearing as he pulls himself upward, stumbling for the light switch. Jack’s only now comfortable sleeping in a dark room, and Sammy’s not quite used to having to turn on the lights to see yet.

The light from the bedroom follows him out into the hall, guides him to the nursery where he can see there’s a lamp on, can hear Jack’s voice humming something just slightly off-tune.

Sammy stops in the doorway to take in his husband, long limbs sprawled out in the couch they dragged in here last week when Sammy complained there wasn’t any decent place to sit in here. He’s holding Elise up to his chest and stroking the nape of her neck, her wispy blonde hair looking almost translucent in the dim light emitting from the one lamp on the table next to the crib that also doubled for diaper-changing.

Jack looks up at Sammy with a soft smile, Elise’s cries going softer the longer Jack rocks her. The longer her dad rocks her.

Sammy’s overcome with a ridiculously sappy emotion and has to look away. He moves across the room to curl up on the couch next to Jack and mold into his side. Jack leans his cheek against Sammy’s head, still humming.

Sammy reaches a hand out, clumsy but he feels perpetually clumsy when it comes to Elise, and he brushes her feather-light hair back. She doesn’t cry out or wake up, instead making a contented little noise. It makes Sammy’s chest hurt.

“It was my turn,” Sammy murmurs into Jack’s shoulder. “You’ve gotta let me have a turn sometime.”

“You were asleep, I wasn’t,” Jack says. “I don’t mind.”

“ _I_ mind,” Sammy says, only a little grumpy.

“You’ve gotta be up for the show, you should sleep while you have the chance,” Jack says in that reasonable tone of his that makes it sound like they haven’t had this argument countless times before.

“But if you’re getting up when I’m at home _and_ while I’m at the station, then I’m never getting up,” Sammy grumbles, knowing this is mostly useless, that tomorrow night Jack will beat Sammy to the punch again and he’ll wake up with an extra blanket around him and an empty bed. “C’mon, Jack. I’m not _that_ bad at this, am I?”

He means to make it come off like a joke, but both he and Jack know it’s a sincere question when it comes down to it.

Jack’s lips press into Sammy’s hair. “Of course you’re not. You’re so good, sweetheart. But I can be the one to get up in the night. It’s not like I’m sleeping anyway.”

Jack’s voice is light, but it makes Sammy dig himself even deeper into Jack’s side. Sammy knows it’s a pointless and inaccurate train of thought, but it always creeps up on him in especially insecure moments. His husband should be able to sleep at night. Sammy should’ve somehow found a way by now to let Jack sleep, but it’s been three years and Jack still can’t make it through the night.

He doesn’t have nightmares anymore, at least not all the time. Only on the worst days. But that’s only because he’s trained himself to only ever get halfway to sleep.

Elise makes a noise that’s somewhere between a snort and snore from Jack’s arms that makes Jack laugh.

“See, she agrees,” Jack says with a brilliant grin. “Do you love your dad, Elise? Huh?”

“Don’t wake her,” Sammy says, feeling the heat rise to his cheeks. He’s still not used to this, doesn’t think he’ll ever be used to this. “And you’re up during the show anyway, I know you listen every night, so don’t keep using that as an excuse as to why you should be the one getting up. I know your tricks, Wright.”

“Foiled again,” Jack says dryly, and Sammy knows he’s rolling his eyes but also knows it’s done with affection. “If she’s up when you’re on, I’ll put her on the phone, see if she recognizes your voice.”

The idea makes Sammy feel ridiculously soft, and he clears his throat purposefully. “As long as you’re not listening to the show in here. I don’t think our daughter needs to be exposed to all of the curse words I use on the radio quite yet. Give it until her first birthday, at least.”

The deflection doesn’t make Sammy any less emotional –the phrase _our daughter_ always gets him choked up, whether its him or Jack saying it. It can always get him stop breathing.

For most of his life, Sammy hadn’t ever been able to picture himself as a dad. He just wasn’t able to fathom the concept. Having a baby was something so far outside what he thought possible for his life. Meeting Jack had made it easier to picture – _okay, maybe, someday –_ but his fear of inadequacy and shame over who he was had always stopped him from seeing it as a real potential.

That had changed, though, and when Jack asked Sammy to marry him, they talked about kids, about adoption, how it really was _possible_ now, and at least some level of normalized too, at least in a big city like Los Angeles. And when Sammy had accepted that he was ready to come out, he’d also accepted just how badly he wanted to have a kid, a family with Jack, something real and tangible that they built together.

Jack disappearing meant all of that was robbed from him, leaving him desperate and alone for the first time in his life, without any hope for the future.

Jack seems to realize that he’s thinking about melancholy things again – Sammy has melancholy thoughts about his past at least once or twice a day, because he can’t quite believe Elise is real, that she’s _his,_ that he has the family he always longed for and never thought himself worthy of having.

Jack butts his forehead against Sammy’s, making Sammy look into his eyes. He’s wearing his glasses – they’re new, he’d never needed glasses before, but Jack’s turning forty soon and his eyesight’s gotten worse.

Jack doesn’t like the glasses, doesn’t like the proof that he’s getting older and missed out on five years of his life. Sammy loves Jack’s glasses. Sammy loves that Jack’s getting older, that they’re getting older together, though he wishes that Jack would get to be on the receiving end of Ben’s old man jokes. Despite the fact that Sammy’s six months younger than Jack and doesn’t need glasses, he’s still the only one being mercilessly mocked. Sometimes Jack even joins in, which Ben loves and Sammy thinks is unfair.

Well, maybe Sammy loves it, too, not that he’ll ever tell Ben that anytime soon.

“You happy?” Jack says quietly, as if he doesn’t already know the answer. Maybe he doesn’t, maybe that’s another way Sammy’s failed him.

But his eyes are soft and crinkle around the edges, and Sammy can tell he knows.

“Never been happier,” Sammy does his best to smile, and Jack presses their lips together for half a second before letting Sammy’s head drop back down onto his shoulder.

They both look down at their daughter, snuffling in her sleep. Sammy was sure from the first time he held her that she was the most perfect thing he’d ever seen and knew he’d do anything for her, but all the same wished that she had someone better, a better father to take care of her where Sammy would inevitably fail.

He wasn’t good enough, he was too old, he’d missed his chance, maybe if they could’ve done this back in their early thirties when they were supposed to this could’ve worked, but now Sammy was too broken and Jack was too traumatized and there was too much in their way –

But Jack had picked her up out of Sammy’s arms, held her in the air, delightedly laughing as she giggled at him, and Sammy knew that he would find some way to quiet the parts of his brain that still hated him, that he’d be the best father he could be and hopefully it would be enough.

“She’s sleeping,” Jack says quietly, raising himself up and out of Sammy’s grip to put Elise back in her crib. He smooths over her blankets, leans down to kiss her forehead. Sammy stares at him and how the light from the lamp reflects off of his hair, how he casts a shadow against the opposite wall.

Sammy reaches out for Jack’s hand. He takes it with a bemused smile, lets Sammy pull him back closer. Sammy pulls Jack into his lap, kissing him softly. He doesn’t want Jack to see his shadow. He wants his husband to sleep tonight.

“What was that for?” Jack asks, kissing Sammy again all the same.

“Love you,” Sammy says in lieu of an answer and Jack rolls his eyes.

“Not in front of the baby,” he mutters, pulling Sammy off the couch and upright, but he’s distracted enough that they make it from the nursery to their bedroom without noticing or casting any undue shadows. Sammy knows what scares Jack, and knows how to avoid him seeing the wrong things. He can’t help when he’s not home, but usually Emily will come over to listen to the show with Jack and coo over Elise, and she knows even better than Sammy how to handle any of Jack’s potential triggers.

“Let me get up next time,” Sammy says as they get back into bed. He doesn’t bother to turn the light off and neither does Jack. Even though nothing bad has happened tonight, maybe the light on will help Jack sleep. Sammy can always just put a pillow over his head or burrow himself in Jack’s chest to block out the light if it bothers him.

“Okay,” Jack says, voice unconvincing, and Sammy swats him lightly on the arm as he curls back around Jack’s side, fitting his head in between Jack’s shoulder and neck.

It feels like no time at all until the baby monitor emits another cry, and Sammy blinks himself awake.

Jack’s still in bed, a hand slowly stroking Sammy’s hair, and Sammy gazes at him blearily in the soft light of the room.

“Your turn,” Jack says, and Sammy knows he’s been awake the whole time. Jack used to sleep much later than him; Sammy always used to be the first up. It’s still a little discombobulating to wake up to Jack looking at him softly like that, watching him sleep, but Sammy’s grown to like it even if he wishes Jack could sleep more. “Though you have to be up in ten minutes for the show anyway.”

Sammy makes a face, but pulls himself up and into Elise’s nursery, changes her diaper and cradles her as she cries, whispering hushed words about how much he loved her and how lucky he was to have her until she calmed down enough for Sammy to put her back in her crib and kiss her goodbye.

Sammy changes into jeans and a sweatshirt, brushes his teeth but doesn’t bother to do anything with his hair, before heading into the living room to grab his keys.

The lights are all on, Jack’s already drinking herbal tea and curled up with one of his books on the couch even though he’s still in his pajamas. Sammy’s not going to ask Jack to try to sleep, because he knows it won’t happen, that Jack would never even attempt sleeping alone.

Instead, Sammy presses a kiss to the top of Jack’s head and asks “Is Emily heading over?”

“Yeah, she’ll be here after Ben leaves,” Jack says, gesturing toward his phone that’s sitting next to their radio.

“Call in later, okay?” Sammy decides to ask, nuzzling Jack’s hair for just a second. “With or without Elise. Though maybe with, when she wakes up and wants to eat. Babies are great for ratings.”

“Okay,” Jack hums, leaning up to kiss Sammy goodbye, graciously letting Sammy pretend like that’s the only reason he wants him to call in. “Have a good show.”

“Love you,” Sammy says, not quite ready to head out the door yet. Even though he loves the show and is happy to be doing it again, he doesn’t like to leave his family. Jack works from home, so he can always be there for Elise. Sometimes Sammy’s jealous of that.

But it’s not like anyone ever calls into the show to talk about anything but his daughter – even Ben’s incapable of talking about anything else, since Elise has definitely replaced Sammy as Ben’s best friend – and he won’t be gone for long.

“Love you, too,” Jack says, sensing Sammy’s vulnerability, and squeezes his hand before he goes.

Sammy has to stop outside of his front door for a second, just to breathe, before he goes to his car. Every day is almost overwhelming, the pieces of his life finally coming together in such a precious way. He feels like he could lose it any second. He already had once before, and now he had so much more to lose. Not just Jack and the idea of a family, but Jack and a real family – Elise, Ben, Emily, everything. He doesn’t deserve such a good life.

He pushes the feeling away and instead remembers what it feels like when his daughter smiles at him, and tries to internalize that feeling instead.


End file.
